What I should be doing: Cleaning and doing laundry.
What I will more likely be doing: Reading and futzing around on the computer out on the balcony. Though, if my allergies don't settle down, then maybe going outside isn't the best idea in the world.
Last night was a great deal of fun. I got to huey and Nyarla's around 9:30 (after several people kept asking me, "Aren't you going to be late?" "But Nyarla's invitation specifically said Hawaiian time was ok! I bet I'll still be the first one there!"), and I was indeed the first one there. Nyarla was busy putting the finishing touches on about 9,000 different dishes (Nyarla and I share the same problem: we are unable to cook for less than an army).
Shortly after I arrived, siva showed up, and then moyet (and Pan). Then, later on, coyote (and Bastian) arrived. We sat around and ate. And ate. And ate. (Ham with potatoes, chili and rice, baked beans, succotash, corn soup, two types of cornbread, fry bread, something else I am forgetting...) And then we ate dessert (blueberry pie, haupia. Haupia!). Sat around chatting and playing with the puppies and chatting and playing with the puppies. Nyarla did an excellent job of foisting leftovers off on everyone, and I got home at about 3, sleepy and full, but quite happy.
It's becoming more and more important to me to make connections with the people I care about. To spend time with them, and to let them know they're important to me, and to give them hugs. I am glad that I have the opportunities to do so, and that they are a part of my life. Yay!
To continue with the grand, 3-day-old tradition.
Last night did not give me one of my more pleasant dreams. It was a variation of a theme common to my uncomfortable nightmares: too much to do, not enough knowledge or time to do it. The details on this one are fairly fuzzy, though.
I do recall being in a long hall lined on one side with dozens upon dozens of small (1' x 1' by 4' tall) tables. Each table represented a project for which I was responsible. Some tables had just a scrap or two of paper, or even just a post-it note. Some tables were piled with papers and folders and binders, the contents stretching to - and beyond - the ceiling in some Looney Tunes-esque rendition of the overflowing inbox. There was also a window at the end of this hall, where new jobs would be passed to me, generally by having a pair of hands shove things through the window at me, and a low voice mumbling vague instructions, and a big red flag on each pile printed with the due date, usually sometime very soon, or even in the past. Some of the projects were things I could do, and that were within my realm of knowledge and ability (migration tasks, travel planning, scheduling appointments, documentation tasks, basic programming). Other tasks were so beyond my realm of experience as to be in a foreign language (profit & loss statements, mortgage papers, kernel programming, corporate management). But they were all my responsibility, and it didn't matter if I didn't know how to do it or not, since I never got time to actually work on any of the projects. All I could do was watch this ever-growing line of tables, receding down the hall, a new one popping up next to the window for each new task that came through the window.
Hell, I can't even drag myself out of my chair to go to the coffee table and find my Allegra, much less haul myself out to the balcony to read, and the idea of cleaning and doing laundry is just laughable to me right now. Of course, I have all these things I have to do, and a bunch of them should be done by Monday, and even more of them by Wednesday night, since I fly to Boston on Thursday. But, not quite yet, I think. My current ambition is low: I must get my Allegra. Everything after that will be bonus.
I got myself out of the chair, and ran around for about 5 minutes, and did lots of stuff in that time. I turned on a light! I got my Allegra! I made lunch! (Turkey sandwich using Thursday night's turkey leftovers on 12-grain wheat, with mustard and swiss. Nyarla's chile cornbread, Nyarla's haupia, lemonade, and water.) I gathered up some trash in the kitchen.
And now I have finished lunch (realizing too late that, since I was already sleepy and lethargic, perhaps turkey wasn't the best choice for lunch), and am nice and full and ... more sleepy and lethargic. Oops.
So, I made it out onto the balcony, and settled in to read my book. I couldn't quite get comfy in my chair, though, and it was distracting. Then I remembered that I had this cheapie fold-out futon-chair-really-narrow-bed thingie that I used to keep out on the balcony when I smoked. I went and dug that out from the storage closet, and spread it out. The next thing I knew, I was asleep. I woke up when a sunbeam decided to pierce the latticework on the balcony in just the right way to make my eyelids completely irrelevant. Good nap, that.
I ended up wearing the cream lacy shirt last night, and as I started doing laundry (!!) today, I realized that my lovely brand new shirt had bright red stains around the collar. Looking at it, to doesn't look so much that it was from wet hair, but from sweat from my hair ending up on my neck. Two rounds through the washer with lots of bleach haven't gotten rid of the stain, so unless I can find some good dye remover, I may be stuck.
Maybe I'll buy some Oxyclean. After all, it is powered by the air we breath!